


Of Savages and Barbarians

by ElCapitan18



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4406600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElCapitan18/pseuds/ElCapitan18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place in an Avvar!AU, this romance covers the relations between the Avvar people and the Dalish elves. Prejudice exists in all sectors of Thedas, even with the wild-folk. But conflict brings unlikely alliances, and unlikely alliances enable relationships never thought possible. The Frostbacks are considered inhospitable by many but, for those who call it home, the only true danger is falling in love with the wrong person. When the world around you sees you as little more than savages or barbarians it is easy to forget that even wildlings fall prey to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Savages and Barbarians

“We found him,” Alistair exclaimed as he hurried into the hut. Folding over himself, he had his hands on his knees and was wheezing for breath as the eyes of the elders landed on the warrior. 

The augur, Eadlar, bellowed out an unsurprised laugh. He turned to face the man seated at the end of the room, his voice was loud with the proclamation, “It is as I’ve said, Thane. The Lady shines her light upon us this day!” With a stomp of his staff, Eadlar professed, “The gods are pleased with our hold once more.”

Sitting up straight in his seat, Thane Cormac Winter-Maul seemed less convinced than the augur in their standing with the gods. Nodding to Alistair, who had caught his breath enough to stand normally, the man investigated, “Where?”

After shifting himself into a respectful stance, Alistair met the Thane’s gaze and supplied, “A ways to the north, following game by the looks of it.”

Cormac leaned back into his seat, his elbows were perched on the imposing chair’s armrests and his fingers were steepled in front of his mouth. When a moment of thought had passed uninterrupted, he turned his attention onto Cullen with the instructions, “Take men to scope the area to see whether or not Thorhalli’s relocation is permanent.” To the augur, he said, “Convene with the gods. Ask them if we are to follow the beast north.”

Both Cullen and Eadlar bowed their heads in acknowledgment of their orders before setting out to see them through. As he turned toward the exit, Cullen made eye contact with Alistair and motioned with his chin for the other man to follow him out. Just as they were about to leave, their Thane stopped them with one final instruction.

“And, Cullen,” when he turned around to face the other man, Cormac finished with a heavy sigh, “Take Reece with you.”

Cullen’s jaw tightened as he bit back his displeasure. “Of course, Thane.” 

Glancing again at Alistair, the other man’s expression was a mirror of Cullen’s sentiments. They were both wise enough to not give voice to their thoughts until they were well out of the Thane’s earshot. Exiting the hut and stepping back out into the chilled Frostback air, the two men were quiet as they strode toward the training ground. 

“How long ago was he spotted?” Cullen asked, his gaze pointed forward while they walked side by side.

Alistair shook his head as he replied, the gesture meant to emphasize his words. “An hour or two ago. I came back as soon as I caught word. Startled a bear on my way back too, she almost made me pay for it.”

Releasing an amused breath through his nose, Cullen gave the other man a sideways glance and inspected him briefly. “She thought better of it, I see.”

“I can be persuasive when I need to be.”

Cullen arched a single eyebrow.

With a lopsided grin on his face, Alistair explained, “I simply informed her that I probably taste terrible, and I tried not to trip over my own feet during my escape.”

As they neared the training ground, Cullen rolled his eyes and muttered, “Imhar has smiled upon you this day then.” Though, if any god were paying Alistair any mind it was probably Sigfrost, who had kept his bear kin from devouring the warrior whole. 

“I think it warrants giving me a legend-mark,” Alistair admitted, his grin growing with the jest. Scratching his chin, he offered the suggestion, “Something like: Alistair Bear-Charmer, or Alistair Bear-kin.”

Shaking his head at the other man’s outrageous suggestions, Cullen focused his attention on the task at hand. They had to follow Thorhilli’s trail north, and before they could set off they needed to collect the Thane’s son. 

The sound of clashing weapons was loud in the mountain air, accompanied by the grunts and growls of warriors training. At the far end of the grounds a large man, built in the likeness of the Father of the Skies, swung his war hammer in a wide circle. His opponent had hardly the chance to roll out of the hammer’s path before they were crushed under its weight. 

“Reece,” Cullen beckoned the man, shouting over the din of training warriors in attempt to catch his attention. When the boulder of a man turned to at the sound of his name, Cullen gestured for him to come over. 

Cullen turned around to face Alistair again but, before he could open his mouth to say anything to the man, their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of one of the Hold’s dagger wielding warriors. A woman of average height leapt into their discussion. Her long hair, which was made shorter by the spring the hundreds of curls framing her face, bounced with her arrival. Blue eyes, the color of the skies overhead, darted from Cullen to Alistair and back again as she butted into a conversation that she had no part in to begin with. 

“Word around the Hold is that you located Thorhilli,” Bella Hawk-Born said, her hands on her hips as she regarded both men. The smile on her lips was roguish, and in her blue eyes shone a desire for adventure.  

Alistair scoffed incredulously. Shaking his head, he observed, “Word spreads faster than a lowlander cough.”

Her gaze moved onto Cullen. “Is that where you are going,” she asked, “to find the beast and return him to the Hold?”

With a shake of his head, Cullen clarified their purpose to the woman. “We are to search for Thorhilli. If the gods have shown him to more prosperous land then we shall follow.”

Throwing a glance at the large man lumbering in their direction, an skeptical expression started to take shape on her features. “And you’re bringing Reece? The man couldn’t find the pointy end of a knife if it were buried in his gullet.”

“Is that why he uses that war hammer?” Alistair wondered aloud with a simper on his lips. “And here I thought it was because it was the only thing that looked normally sized in his hands.”

Ignoring both of their jibes at the Thane’s eldest son, Cullen revealed the true reason behind the large man’s presence on this venture. “The Thane ordered his presence.”

Bella nodded in curt understanding of Cullen’s words. “I’ll join you,” she volunteered. “My birds will make quick work of finding the beast.”

“What is it, Cullen,” Reece’s deep voice vibrated the air as finally he joined their conversation. 

The man stood as tall as a bear, and was just as strong. His skin was sun browned, calloused by training and scarred by battle, with an intimidating musculature that shifted with deadly promise under his surface. Grey eyes were filled with glory-lust and little else. The man’s temper was more wild than a rabid dog, and his quick anger hadn’t made him many friends; if any at all.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Cullen explained, “Thorhilli has been spotted a few hours north.”

Reece gave him a furrowed look. Impatience was woven through his voice as he prodded, “What does that have to do with me?”

“Cormac Winter-Maul ordered that you accompany us in locating the beast,” said Cullen, his impatience growing with the tall man. “We are to leave immediately.”

Even if his expression tightened with distaste and indignation, Reece knew better than to refuse his father’s orders in front of the hold. He would go with Cullen and the others, but his usefulness in this endeavor was a matter of debate. 

Stamping the grip of his hammer into the dirt underfoot, Reece grit his teeth in annoyance before releasing a breath through his nose. “Who am I to argue with the wisdom of our Thane?” he asked, his words soaked with venom and sarcasm. “Let us be off before the beast alludes us again.”

After staring at the large man with uncertainty for a moment, Cullen turned his attention to Alistair and Bella who both shrugged in unison. Reece was good in a fight and not much else, but they had their orders. Standing around contemplating the soundness of those orders was wasting precious daylight. 

“Let’s get moving.”

~*~

The scent of pine needles was heavy in the air, a wild perfume that was nearly sedating in its aroma. Trees grew tall on this side of the mountain, the thick canopy so full that sunlight struggled to trickle through the foliage. It was excellent cover for any predator wise enough to use it, and Serai was such a predator. 

Her bow was slung across her back as she climbed through the branches. She tried to keep the rustling of her movements minimal, drawing as little attention to her whereabouts as possible. Her target was last seen west from the clan’s position, and she’d been ordered to scout the area in search of the mongrel picking off their halla. 

With a downward glance she found her guide and kept moving. The wolf had a scent and would not stop until their prey was found. He was her eyes on the ground as she swung through the trees. As long as the wolf was moving so was she. 

Only a fraction of her attention was on the sun’s placement overhead, Serai discerned the near hour that followed with her in the trees and her wolf on the ground. Just when the thought that perhaps her wolf was leading her nowhere, the beast snapped his teeth excitedly and made a mad dash through the wood.

A grin inched across her lips. Finally, he’d found something. Serai’s graceful steps quickened as she skipped from branch to branch, ducking, weaving, and dancing from one tree to the next at such a pace that allowed her to keep up with the wolf underfoot. 

It did not take long for her to find the source of what had alerted her wolf. Serai smelled the old blood before she saw it. The branches of the tree several yards away from her were broken and bloodied. Chunks of gnawed meat hung from the tree, innards dangling a bit from the carcass that had been hidden in the greenery. 

Below her, on the forest floor, the wolf stood on its hind legs, perched up against the tree trunk as he barked. Serai whistled, the bird call meant as an acknowledgment of the wolf’s good work, and a reward for finding their prey.

Climbing closer to the half eaten corpse, Serai recognized a thick white coat now painted red with blood. She sighed heavily and shook her head. It appeared as though they’d found the young halla who’d ventured too far from the aravel. That was the second one this month. Either the clan needed to better guard their halla, or they needed to deal with the beast attacking them. Perhaps both. 

Serai’s ears twitched at the sound of hawk cries in the skies above her head. Lifting her gaze she spotted the birds, two of them circling above, cooing the heavens as they glided through the air. Without giving the birds further thought, she started down the trees so she could join her four legged companion on solid ground. 

The wolf leaped onto her as she scrambled down the tree, tackling her the rest of the way down and almost causing her to lose her footing. “Good work, _Fen’falon_ ,” she said quietly to the wolf, scratching between his ears. 

Both of their attention whipped forward at the sound of snapping twigs. Serai quickly pulled her bow free and knocked an arrow into place. Scanning the forest in front of them, she crouched low to the ground and carefully treaded forward. Her steps were silent as she and the wolf proceeded, his growl a soft but powerful rumble that vibrated the air between them. At the bird whistle she made, the wolf left her side and went to flank their target. 

Spotted fur caught her gaze, the shifting muscles of the powerful animal pulling her attention into focus. The wild cat was a mighty thing, heavy with the muscles of an apex predator, he moved with a lithe grace that took Serai’s breath away. The beast was gorgeous, magnificent, an animal worthy of respect. And he would make a good prize, perhaps she’d wear his pelt this winter. 

The panther had yet to notice her, or if he had he hadn’t deemed her a worthy threat, and Serai planned on taking full advantage of her position. Pulling the bowstring all the way back to her ear, Serai breathed in deeply through her nose. Just as she was about to send the arrow flying, where it would bury itself deep into the panther’s neck, a movement in her peripherals caught her attention and Serai turned just in time witness a giant running out from between the trees with a mighty war hammer ready to strike her down.

A vicious snarl sounded from behind her and, before Serai could even react to the surprise attack, Fen’falon was charging the giant down and launching himself at the human. The wolf collided with the colossal man, nails clawing at his bare chest, and teeth gnashing, snapping, and biting as he tried to get around the hammer currently separating them. 

Lining a shot, Serai waited for an opening that wouldn’t risk hitting her wolf. The moment that the human managed to shove the wolf away from him, she loosed the arrow and watched as it buried deep into the muscular hunk of the shemlan’s shoulder. With a downward glance at the arrow protruding from his body, the gargantuan man seemed little more than irritated at having been attacked. 

A single swing of his hammer sent Fen’falon flying across the clearing where he collided with a tree. His pained yelp was loud in the air before he fell to the ground with a thump. Serai hadn’t the time to make sure whether or not her wolf still lived. The moment that the wolf was out of the way, the brutish human was lumbering in her direction, ready to use that hammer on her. 

Serai backed up, keeping space between them as she readied a second arrow. She aimed for his eye as she pulled the string back. The second she released the arrow she knew that she was not going to make it out of this encounter unscathed. In a quick, effortless motion, the mountain of a man lifted his hammer and used the heavy iron head to deflect her arrow. 

 _Fenedhis_ , she cursed to herself when she finally appreciated the position that she was in. Serai had left her daggers in her aravel, opting to train with the bow because there hadn’t been trouble for weeks and she’d expected today to be no different. She was weak with a bow, and it was the only weapon she had on her. 

She replaced the bow on her back again and instead reached for the knives secured to her belt. They were hunting knives, shorter than daggers, which meant if she wanted to use them she needed to get close. Serai waited for the man to come charging at her, paying close attention to the swing of his hammer, and tried to convince herself that the trembling earth caused by his footfalls was fully to blame on her imagination.

Her body twisted to the left as the hammer came crashing down. Dirt sprayed up like splashing water, giving way under the force of his attack. Serai didn’t spare him the second that he would need to recover his weapon. Blade in hand, she swung at the giant with a growl in her throat. Satisfaction started to ember inside her at the feeling of her blade slicing open the skin of his naked arm. 

The beast of a man pulled his hammer back out of the earth and swung it again. Serai threw herself past him, evading his weapon by rolling out of the way and uncurling behind him. Just as he started to turn around to find her again, she launched herself at his back and used her knives to scale his back. Each time she buried her blades into the thick definition of his back, she did so with a shout, climbing up his torso even as he twisted and fought to free himself of her. 

With an arm around his neck she pulled herself up some more and readied her blade. Serai lifted the knife over her head and was about to stab her blade into the giant’s neck, where she would sink it deep into his carotid artery and drag it across his throat. Before she could bring her weapon down the sound of shouting distracted her from her purpose.

“Reece!” A voice tore through the wood as its owner ran to join them in the clearing. “Stop!”

Before Serai could see who the voice belonged to, the monster beneath her grabbed a hold of her hair and flipped her over his back. She hit the ground hard, the air fleeing from her lungs with the force of her impact. Stars filled her eyes, and her mouth was wide as she gasped for breath that eluded her. Serai was helpless, gulping for air like a fish, as she watched the brutish man swing back his hammer and prepare to bring it down upon her. 

Serai had always known that she would die in battle, though she’d never imagined that it would be like this. 

Time slowed as she stared up at the man who would be her death, waiting for the fall of his hammer, the pain that would follow, and the eternal blackness that would mean her end. The moment never came, however, as her assailant was stopped before the deathblow could be dealt. 

She watched, still gasping for air, as a man dressed in furs and little else stepped over her to stand between them. He caught the giant’s hands as they came down, stopping the hammer mid-air and wrestling with the brute who was so intent on killing Serai. 

Her untimely rescuer was human. Tall, though not as tall as her attacker, and well muscled with the strength of a warrior. His dark blond hair shone with a slightly reddish hue in the daylight, and his skin was golden in its sun-kissed tan. He was strong enough to hold off the giant’s attack, the muscles in his legs visibly straining as he fought the other man away from her. 

The world snapped back into focus when Serai finally managed to wheeze a few breaths into her lungs. The smell of dirt and pine were in her nose, and she could taste blood on her tongue, the muscle stinging where she’d accidentally bitten into it. She rolled onto her side and shook as a fit of coughs wracked through her. 

“Stop,” the shorter man grunted again, his voice strained as he was still wrestling with the giant to keep him from her. 

The giant’s voice trembled the air with its bass, his anger and battle lust were loud in his words. “She was going to kill Thorhilli,” he growled. 

“Open your eyes!” shouted the smaller human. “Look at the marks on her face. She’s Dalish, they travel in groups. You kill her and you summon the wrath of a clan we know nothing about.”

With the two men distracted fighting each other, Serai searched for where she’d dropped her knives. She found one a few feet away and scrambled to collect a weapon she actually knew how to use. With the knife secured in her grasp, she hurried to where Fen’falon had fallen and prayed to the pantheon that her wolf still lived. 

There was a discernible rise and fall to the black wolf’s chest as she neared him. Placing her hand on his chest, Serai inspected the wolf for serious injury, scoping the bones of his ribcage and back in search of any breaks or dislocated bones. When she found that nothing was out of place, or so much as fractured, Serai released a heavy sigh and stroked the wolf’s thick black pelt. 

“ _Ma seranas,_ Mythal,” she whispered before giving the wolf a quick shake in attempt to stir it from unconsciousness. The sound of an ending argument registered behind her. 

“The next time that you get in my way again, Alistair, will be the last time,” the giant promised with a threatening growl. 

The smaller man scoffed in return. “That’s going to be a problem, Reece,” he replied. “Considering how much space you take up, it’s impossible _not_ to get in your way.”

The brutish man, she now knew was called Reece, made a disgusted noise before leaving the clearing and Alistair behind. He watched his friend go for a moment before turning to face Serai. She caught her breath at the sight of his high cheek bones, regal nose, and the strong line of his jaw. There was a light dusting of freckles hidden in the golden pigmentation of his skin, and under the furrowed set of his dark eyebrows were a pair of eyes so piercing that Serai was held prisoner to them. The hazel of his eyes caught the daylight and reflected it like fire opal, so full of concern. Whether or not that worry was for her, Serai didn’t care to wonder. 

He took a step toward her and she clambered backwards, holding the knife out between them in a clear warning that if he came any closer it was to meet his end. At the intensity of her reaction, he lifted his hands in a universal sign of surrender and muttered that everything was going to be okay as though she were some wild animal in need of placating. Serai narrowed her eyes at him. 

With his hands still held up, Alistair crouched down where he stood and inspected Serai closely as he asked, “Are you alright?”

“I didn’t need your help, _shemlan_ ,” Serai seethed, her knife still ready to be put to use should he come at her the wrong way. 

The human made an exasperated face before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Thank you, Alistair. The situation was getting pretty dodgy before you showed up,” he said in a sing song voice that pulled a confused expression onto Serai’s face. He was a strange human, as fascinating as he was handsome, though she was trying not to pay any mind to the latter observation. 

Lowering her blade a bit, Serai fought the unwelcome desire to concede with his statement. “I said that I did not need your help, not that it was unappreciated.” Lifting her chin indignantly, she added, “However, I had the situation under control.”

Alistair snorted in amusement. “Yes, well, you ‘controlling’ the situation would have resulted in either your death,” she glared at him but he carried on as though he hadn’t noticed the deadly edge to her gaze, “or the death of my companion. You’ll forgive me if I don’t feel bad about my timely intervention.”

She only noticed that she’d completely set her knife down when the human inched in her direction. There was no threat in his movements or gaze, and the look in his hazel eyes was of genuine worry. If he meant to hurt her he was doing an impressive job of hiding it. Serai didn’t trust him, not by any means, but she didn’t think that his aim was to harm her either. 

Ignoring her desire to back away some more and maintain distance between them, she returned her knife to its place on her belt. It was ready to use should she need it, but no longer an immediate weapon to use against the odd _shemlan_ whose gaze was soft with concern. He was intriguing, and Serai couldn’t yet decide whether or not that was a bad thing. 

“You never answered me,” his voice had a teasing tilt to it that reflected on the curve of his lips. Turning his head to the side a bit, he asked again, “Are you alright?”

Unable to break his gaze, Serai opened her mouth but no words came out. A blush started to warm her face and she hid behind the curtain of her long black hair. “I’m fine,” she ground out, irritated with herself and her reaction to him. When she was fairly certain that the blood rushing her features wasn’t as obvious as it had been a second ago, she tucked her hair behind and ear and met Alistair’s curious stare again.

A moment of silence passed between them as they held each other’s gaze. “So,” Alistair drawled out when that moment grew too long. The quirk at the corner of his mouth was almost charming in its crookedness when he prodded, “Do you have a name, or will I have to resort to calling you lass?”

 _It’s better than knife ear_ , Serai thought to herself as she contemplated answering his question. When her lips parted, ready to give him her name, her attention was instead pulled to the clearing’s edge where two more _shemlan_ strode into view. Her eyes sharpened and her hand immediately flew to her knife once more. By this time Fen’falon was awake again, shaken and dazed, but aware enough of the situation to sense that the newcomers were far from welcome. His protective growl filled the clearing. 

“Whoa,” Alistair jumped up at the sight of her grip on her weapon in reaction to their company. His hands flew up again, one held toward Serai in a futile attempt to calm her back down, and the other was for his companions as an instruction to not come any closer. “Everything’s okay, these are just some friends of mine.”

“Reece said something about you finding a pet,” the woman laughed as she and the other male stopped a safe distance away from Serai. She was tall, slim, her skin was pale and pinkish in its tone. There was a smear of what looked like blood across her nose. Wild curls fell around her shoulders and down her back, brown and bouncy, untamed and beautiful. 

Sky blue eyes landed on Serai and the playful smile on her lips grew. “You sure do like them bitey. Don’t you, Alistair?”

The tall male at her side crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and regarded the situation with cautious amber eyes. His hair was blond like Alistair’s, only lighter in its shine, more like silken gold or stalks of wheat ready for harvest. His skin was darker than the woman’s but lighter than Alistair’s, not holding a tan as well.

He inspected Serai closely, quickly analyzing the knife in her hand and the wolf that was now crouching down behind her, prepared to strike should anyone come too close. His expression was unreadable, stern, serious in a way that balanced his companions. That he was their leader was obvious to see, what that meant for her was much harder to determine. 

“Bella located Thorhilli’s lair,” the man stated, his tone level. By the shouting that had been done between Alistair and the brute they called Reece, Serai concluded that Thorhilli was the name of the panther she’d been hunting. The humans were after it too, for reasons that were still unclear. “His territory ranges a large portion of this mountainside.”

Turning his attention onto Serai, he addressed her personally with the question, “Are your people passing through, or do you have intentions on remaining on this side of the mountain for long?”

Serai tensed at the interrogation. Her lip pulled back into a snarl and she narrowed her eyes on the man. He was asking after her clan, about their position and whereabouts. Next he’d want to know how many they were, and what kind of defenses the clan had. If Serai answered him it would be at the cost of her people’s safety, and she would rather bite off her own tongue than ever risk that. 

Hazel eyes fell onto her and the look in Alistair’s eyes was beseeching. A moment of conversation and he expected her to give up kin and clan? She was incredulous. Serai barely knew the man, she wasn’t going to betray her people for a pair of citrine eyes. 

“That is none of your concern, _shemlan_ ,” she seethed, her knife up and ready. As Serai stood back up on her feet, the first thing she noticed was how much taller Alistair was than her. Standing little taller than a dwarf, Serai came up to about the center of his torso, where his chest began. The second thing she noticed was that Fen’falon stood with her, her shadow and protector. If she chose to fight, he would be with her, if she ran, he would make sure she got away.

With a backwards step, Serai thought that maybe the latter option was her only real one. “Do not cross my path again, humans, or I will mistake you for bandits.” Outnumbered as she was, she knew that her threat meant little to them. But humans were like rabid animals, they attacked at the first whiff of fear, and she could not show that she felt anything other than annoyance with their presence. 

Turning on her heel, Serai sprinted through the woods. She heard Alistair shout after her with a surprised, “Hey!” but didn’t stop. Fen’falon kept pace beside her as they fled for the safety of the clan’s numbers. The Keeper would need to be told of the Avvar in the area. Alistair had seemed pleasant enough, but if Reece was an example of their people’s warriors, a conflict with these humans was one better avoided. 

Even as a small part of her longed to look into those expressive hazel eyes once more, the smarter part of Serai hoped she never saw Alistair again. He and his people were a danger to the clan, even if that boyish grin had seemed the furthest thing from dangerous.

~*~

“And she’s off,” Bella said with a laugh. She came up to stand beside Alistair and nudged him with her elbow as she teased, “Do you always have that affect on women, or is it just the pretty ones?”

Alistair’s attention was on the forest that the elven woman had fled into. The image of her was still fresh in his mind, her long black hair had dangled past her waist like a sea of onyx. Her skin was lighter than Bella’s by several shades, almost sickly in its alabaster tone. Eyes the color of summerstone had glared at him with distrust at first, and then with curiosity. With her diamond shaped face, pronounced cheekbones, button nose, and heart shaped lips, Alistair had never seen a woman more lovely. 

She had been such an ethereal creature, delicate in size but vivacious and so full of fight that she’d almost felled Reece of all people; with little more than a carving knife too. When Alistair had interrupted them, she’d been atop Reece’s back about to stab him in the neck and end his life. If the hold caught word of his would be defeat…

To Bella he replied, “Must only be pretty ones.” He finally spared her a glance and fought to keep his expression straight as he finished, “It’s the only explanation as to why you remain.”

Lifting her hand to her chest, Bella gripped at herself as though trying to hold the fragments of her heart together. “That was hurtful, Alistair,” she gasped in exaggerated pain. 

“We should get back to the hold. The Thane must know what we found,” Cullen intruded before he and Bella could start bickering like siblings. “He will decide what must be done with these Dalish.”

Both Cullen and Bella turned to leave, but before he followed suit Alistair looked again to where the elf had ran. His attention was caught by the shine of the sunlight hitting metal. She’d lost one of her knives in the fight with Reece. Picking up the small blade from the forest floor, Alistair turned it in his hand and admired the foreign craftsmanship that had went into the tool. Hopefully whatever manner Cormac Winter-Maul decided to ‘deal’ with the Dalish allowed him to return the knife to its proper owner. 

Perhaps he’d even get her name. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hopping on the Avvar!AU bandwagon, this was going to be a strictly Delani Lavellan X Cullen romance, but I decided, "What the hell," and threw all my OTPs into the mix. I'm writing his bad boy for the fun of it, and hope you enjoy the ride as it goes. If not, that's okay too!


End file.
